In the Bones
by SameLove99
Summary: This is a riveting story about two mechs who go through everything, and every struggle to love. Prowl doesn't want to know what it is to feel anymore, and Jazz wants to be his savior. What can he do to establish that? Read and find out the tragedy, loss and struggles of love.
1. His Beginning

"I'm gonna marry the night,

Won't give up on my life.

I'm a warrior queen,

Live passionately tonight.

I'm gonna marry the dark,

Gonna make love to the stars.

I'm a soldier to my own emptiness,

I, I'm a singer.

I'm gonna marry the night."

-prologue-

Everyday he ever woke up, there was nothing but pain.

Some days there was a bit less of such, but pain nonetheless.

People always called him names, pushed him, hurt him, beat him. His parents were no better. A drunk for a father, and a wailing ball of sadness as another father, and I suppose he was caught in the middle.

Nothing but a deteriorating piece of sheet metal, soon to just be thrown away like the rest. This is all about him,

Prowl.

Prowl was a poorly misunderstood youngling, and even now, full grown mech. Every day he lived, he wanted to it to just end.

Now, being just the young age of 9, you'd figure he was a bit overreactive. He had much to be sad over. Every day being a constant battle for him to even keep breathing, the sexual abuse, verbal and physical abuse - but this was apart of his daily life.

He supposed he was going to finally be used to it.

Prowl crawled into his closet, and quickly, but quietly, shut the door and locked it, and began gasping for air.

He was absolutely exhausted, and deathly afraid. He felt as if his spark would explode as it continued to jump pulses, and cause him to feel even more fear and anguish.

Suddenly, he heard a crash, and the familiar voice of his angry father.

"Prowl!" his father shrieked in absolute furiosity.

He shuddered in fear, and wrapped his arms around his legs as he backed up into the corner of the closet.

He held his breath, trying to be quiet as tears began to slowly fill his optics..

"Where are you, you little useless piece of slag?!" his father screamed, shaking the walls around him.

Prowl pressed both hands upon his audios to block out the sound of his angry father.

He cringed, praying, hoping he wouldn't find him, even just this once.

Then, just as quickly as he thought, he saw his father appear in an angry shadow above him. He looked up; horrified.

"Did you honestly think you could get away? You always try and hide, but does it ever work? Just accept you're my punching bag."

Prowl held himself tighter while staring into the fiery optics that his father owned. He was a tall, dark colored praxian.

Black door wings, with gray stripes, and a black part upon his chin.. Black across his torso, with a few stripes of white with underlying gray to go over it.

His appearance was downright frightening - but no where near as frightening as he was.

"I - I'm sorry..." Prowl practically whispered.

"I'm going to gut you!"

His father reached his hands down to grab Prowl, as he sat there, paralyzed with fear.

Suddenly, the sounds of breaking metal. Crashing, breaking, and the squeak of hinges coming apart.

"No!" wailed Prowl, feeling his spark heat rise up and his body felt as if it would melt under the painful pressure of his father.

Prowl wailed, and begged for his father to stop as he began to overheat from the stress, but no words would make his father stop.

And then, everything went black.

-beginning-

Prowl shot up, and began to hyperventilate in fear.

A nightmare. Even worse, a memory.

He put his hands to his face, and tried to fight back tears as the memories began to rush into his processor, breaking his soul completely apart. He stood up, hands still pressed to his face, trying to collect himself. He removed his hands, and looked at himself in the mirror.

"What's so wrong with me...?" he whispered to himself.

The tears began to well up in his optics, and he fell to the floor, completely losing it then and there.

He closed his optics, trying to fight back more tears, and squeezed his hands together, as if one of the hands belonged to another. But he knew he had no one but himself.

That's why his father never loved him, right?

That must be it.

He never did anything right, he could never be perfect... he was nowhere near perfect. He would never be worth anything.

As all these thoughts rushed to his mind, he looked to his top drawyer.

"I... It hurts so much. I can't..." he muttered quietly to himself.

He reached his hand to his drawyer, and opened it. Inside resided alcohol, with some cotton pads.

There was a little notebook with various drawings across the top, and that which lay ontop of it was a syringe and needle.

There were various things, but he knew what he wanted. He reached for the needle, and the rest of the contents. As he pulled them out, he laid back.

He began to lift a small flap upon his wrist, lifting up the metal and exposing the wires and cords beneath.

He took a deep breath, and reached to grab the red wire, pulling it up ever so slightly.

Then, he grabbed from his subspace a curious green liquid. Putting it into the syringe, he prepared his wrist.

He took a deep breath, and looked upon his arm.

In a flash, the needle entered his wires.

He gasped in pain, then pushed down with his thumb upon the syringe. He exhaled in relieved pain, and his optics rolled around in his head.

As he finished, he took out the syringe, and dropped it right to his side.. Unaware of anything, even himself now.

It didn't hurt as bad this way.

He lay there in the floor next to his berth, twitching, barely looking sane.

Holding onto the side of his berth as if he were about to fall, but there was no possible way because he'd been already laying down.

"Why... I..." he started to speak, but, his optics darkened, and he lost himself there to the drugs he had pressed so deeply into himself. And just like that, everything went black.

-POV-

Jazz was at his working quarters, typing away at his computer, watching the surveillance cameras as he slowly sipped at his energon cube.

Just losing himself in his thoughts.

He wonderered what Ironhide might be doing. It seemed he was always so happy, and jolly.

He wished he could be like, that, and then - speak of the devil.

"Hey, Jazz. What's up?" Ironhide walked up, and leaned next to Jazz's computer. "Surveillance? Gets boring sometimes, don't it?" he said, following a hearty laugh.

He looked up at the big, red mech and shrugged. "I feel like I'm constantly spying on people! Like, woah. Kind of like Blaster's little cassette tapes, or wharever." he said rather loudly as he laughed.

"Ha, those lil' guys are cute! I'd feel like my privacy was sort of invaded if they were around me all the time though. Especially in my chest! What if I was showerin' or somthin'." he shouted, following a loud laugh as he slapped his knee, then proceeded to take a drink out of his own energon cube. It wasn't the best grade, but it would do.

Jazz smiled.

"Yeah, but those are like his own kids. There no sparks around like Blaster's, and I mean that literally. He's dual sparked. He can't mate with another mech, or a femme, so that's a way to sub for birthing sparklings, I guess. When ya got kids - or somethin' like kids - you love em'. You don't care what they see of you, you give em' your all."

Ironhide mulled over the thought.

"... Hmm, well. I guess you're right.. Well, I gotta get back to my work post. Lemme know if ya need any help, or see anything that shouldn't be going on on those cameras!"

"I sure will." Jazz replied as he watched Ironhide leave the room, with a wave.

Suddenly, Jazz created a topic to think about -

Love.

What was it really? Jazz didn't really know love. As a matter of fact, he'd never really even felt it, other than the love from his birth parents.

Would he ever fall in love?

He didn't know, but he wanted to soon. He was getting older, and he hadn't even spark-bonded once.

He hadn't even had a real kiss - and with that thought, knew it was time to find someone. But who?

Maybe Smokescreen?

No, he's a bit of a... uh, well, he wasn't going to even think that way.

Maybe Sideswipe?

Nah, he wasn't feminine enough for him. Perhaps-

Then his thoughts were interrupted as he looked up at the surveillance cameras.

On camera 9, which was in front of Prowl's quarters, he saw a figure crawling out from his quarters. He squinted to see - It was Prowl, and he didn't look too good.

Jazz shot up, and sprinted toward the second in command's quarters, and found him crawling in the hallway, seemingly trying to crawl to Mirage's quarters.

"Hey! Prowl, are you okay?"

But he recieved no response, as he watched him continue to struggle against the ground in a bit of a battle.

He made his way closer, and began to help him up.

"Don't touch me!" Prowl shouted, and slapped his arm off him, and their eyes met and Prowl froze, as did Jazz.

"A-Are you okay? Let me get you some help. Did something happen?" Jazz said with concern.

"No, I'm fine. Don't get anyone... just... help me over there." He pointed to Mirage's quarters. "He can help me, I don't need anyone else's help right now."

Confused, Jazz agreed.

He grabbed Prowl by the waist with one hand, then wrapped his arm around in an effort to help him up. As he slowly rose Prowl up, he used his free hand to grab Prowl's hand, and wrapped his arm around his own neck to help him walk. Then, slowly, they began to take steps.

"So... are you okay?" Jazz asked, with obvious worry in his voice, despite his low knowledge of the mech he was watching stagger.

"It's none of your business." Prowl replied, coldly and plainly.

Jazz cringed at his tone.

"Uh, okay..."

The silence was awkward, but they made it to Mirage's quarters in time before it got even more awkward.

Jazz carefully leaned Prowl's weak body against the wall next to Mirage's quarters, and press the buzzer to ring the door.

"Hello? Mirage?" he called after the spy.

The door slid open, and Mirage poked his head out at Jazz.

"What?" he replied irritably in his accented voice.

"Um, I found Prowl crawling outside of his quarters and he told me to take him here. He said you would know how to help him, but uh - I - I don't even know what's wrong. And - "

"Thanks, I got it from here." Mirage said plainly as he cut off Jazz in the middle of his sentence, and he turned to grab Prowl. "Come on, I told you not to use so much."

And they disappeared into his quarters, and the doors slid shut.

Jazz stood infront of the quarters, a bit dumbfounded.

What just happened?

He didn't know.

He was confused.

He made his way back to his work station, and sat back down, laid back and sighed loudly into his palm.

"Damn, damn, damn..." he muttered under his breath.

What was that all about?

He continued to wonder.

Then a thought suddenly appeared - perhaps Ironhide would know.

He removed himself from his position, and made a trek down the hallway to Ironhide's workroom.

He hesitated, but he knocked. The door slid open almost immediately, and out appeared a jolly looking Ironhide.

"Howdy! What can I do for ya, my friend?" He said in earnest.

Jazz blinked a couple of times, then cleared his throat.

"Well, uh... I saw Prowl on the surveillance camera a little while ago, and he was crawling around on the ground and he was barely even awake it seemed like, and his optics were rolling around in the back of his head whenever I went to go help him. He was really independant and didn't want any help from me, but he wanted it from Mirage. I mean, maybe Mirage knew what was wrong, I don't know. You seem to have a good profile on people, so I was just kinda wondering if you know what could be wrong?" he finished.

Ironhide narrowed his eyes as his jolly expression disappeared in a click. "Come in." he said sharply.

Confused, he hesitantly entered the workroom, and heard Ironhide lock the door.

"Have a seat," he ordered. "And I'll explain. You're not gonna like it, and probably not believe me, but, yeah."

Jazz sat down, and then looked at Ironhide expectantly.

Ironhide sighed, and he began.

"You see, Prowl has... problems. He has a long history of abuse, and because of that, he's a bit, um, for lack of a better word... disturbed. He's not really the kind of mech you want to help out, or even be around, for that matter. He only talks to Mirage because Mirage is a prostitute and probably about as low in the totem pole as Prowl is, and just as screwed up mentally, as well as in a drug cartel. Now, I don't know if Prowl does drugs, but if he hangs around Mirage, I wouldn't doubt he does, esepcially with that sight you saw just a little bit ago. You can think whatever ya want, but you asked my opinion."

He finished as he looked down, then looked back up at Jazz with a worrisome look upon his face.

Jazz blinked a few times, obviously a bit surprised by what he just heard.

"Oh, alright... Well, don't you think he needs help?" he replied, obvious concern and worry in his voice, to Ironhide's surprise.

"Who fraggin' cares?! He does, but he's beyond help! I'm tellin' ya, Jazz. He's demented, and he ain't no good. Everyone's tried to help him, but he just won't accept none of it, least of all from me or Optimus! The only person he lets into his life period is Mirage, or rarely, Bluestreak. I'm tellin' ya, you wanna stay out of it."

He said in a warning tone. Well, frag. He was being a little too serious.

"O-okay..."

Jazz responded unevenly, and removed himself from the seat. He walked toward the door, feeling optics upon him, and turned to look at Ironhide. "

Thanks for the advice..."

He recieved back nothing but a simple nod.

He took his leave, and made his way back to his work station. He again took his seat, and got lost entirely in his thoughts.

Prowl couldn't be that bad, could he?

I mean, he's simply a mech like everyone else. He couldn't be that screwed up.

He looked like he was in pain whenever he found him...

He just needed help.

Right?

For some reason, Jazz wanted to be the one to help him.

And then, a most curious thought came to him about his earlier thoughts and topics of his mind.

Love...

What if Prowl was the one? No, that couldn't be it... but he was so beautiful He had the most lovely, sapphire blue optics that burned with such a passion, it made Jazz a bit weak.

He knew Prowl never really talked much, but he somehow wanted to be the one to teach him to talk more.

To teach him to feel better and not to hurt., to be himself.

He didn't know why, but he felt in that moment, more than any other moment he felt, that he was meant for this.

He laid back in his chair, and whispered before drifting into recharge.,

"Prowl..."


	2. From Can to Can't

"If I were you,

I'd put that away...

See, you're just wasted,

And thinkin' 'bout the past again.

Darling, you'll be okay."

-beginning-

Prowl woke up in Mirage's quarters, hardly remembering anything that happened last night.

He sat up, and rubbed his optics groggily, then suddenly, he was struck by pain.

He put his hand to his wrist, and looked down, seeing his wires were still exposed.

He observed the small hole he had injected into himself, and watch little drops of purple-ish green fluid drip from his wrist to the floor beneath him.

He quickly closed the flap, and closed his eyes in pain.

"Was it rough?" Mirage asked, his voice crackily.

Prowl turned his head to Mirage, to see him smoking a cigarette.

Next to him, was a bag full of little green clusters, wrapped tightly to prevent scent, and on the opposite side on the floor, lay various types of alcoholic beverages which were already drank.

He observed closer, and noticed that both flaps upon Mirage's wrists were wide open, and it seemed he could barely even sit up in his chair.

He observed little tubes of the green liquid of which he injected into himself, and instantly remembered what happened last night...

His mind flashed back.

-flashback-

Prowl awoke in the closet, in absolute pain.

His fingers were broken and disfigured, and he lay there in a position you could hardly fathom a body would be able to twist into.

His face was covered in his own fluids, his nose broken and disfigured along with every part of him seemingly.

He tried to sit up, but as he tried, a bloodcurdling scream escaped him.

He could hardly move.

Then, fear struck him as he heard footsteps nearby.

He hoped to primus it wasn't his father.

The closet door opened, and sunlight shined onto his body.

"Prowl, oh my primus!" his other father shouted.

"He did this to you... again, and again. I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop him. He hurt me too."

His father leaned in closer to him and kissed him upon his forehead, and Prowl could see slashes and burns across his father.

His heart sank as he looked, and felt a surge of sadness he'd enver felt before.

"I don't know if I can protect you anymore, Prowl... my sweet, sweet spark. He's getting worse, and drinking more... He hurts us both so much."

His father picked Prowl up, and began to cradle him in his arms.

"He's passed out in the dining floor... he's been there awhile. H-He'll be waking any minute now... and I- I.. I can't -

"Praxus!" called his other father.

Prowl and Praxus froze as they prepared themselves for the inevitable.

"Prowl, lovely... I-I love you..." his father cooed into his audios.

Despite the pain, Prowl held onto his father, and prepared himself for what was to come.

-POV-

"So... are you going to answer me?" Mirage blurted out in the middle of Prowl's thoughts.

"What?" Prowl replied plainly.

"Was it rough?"

"I hardly remember anything after I injected it... What's it called again?"

Mirage allowed a smirk to approach him, as he picked up a vile of the green liquid.

"It's E-Synth. Synthetic energon, and it makes you feel amazing, doesn't it?"

He practically whispered as if he was speaking of queens and mansions as he examined the vile.

"I wasn't awake long enough to feel it." Prowl replied coldly.

Mirage slowly stood up from his chair, obviously disoriented.

He looked as if he was lost. He had obviously taken some of the green liquid.

His flaps being wide open upon his wrists was a dead giveaway.

He kneeled next to Prowl, and offered him a vile. "Take it... it makes everything better. You don't have to think with it, and you don't even have to feel. All you can feel is what feelings and wonders it gives you." he rasped.

Prowl removed the vile from Mirage's hands, and looked up at Mirage as he received an expectant look from him.

He nodded, and opened his flaps and took the syringe also given by Mirage, and put the vile into it.

He thumbed it to test it.

After, he watched the fluid squirt from the top of the needle.

Satisfied, he looked down at his exposed wires.

He took a took in a huge gust of air through his intakes, and stuck the needle to his wires. instantly feeling a rush.

He became lightheaded, disoriented, and unaware of his ownself.

Mirage smirked in delight.

"Yeah, that's the stuff, isn't it? It feels so good..."

He took his own vile, and injected the needle into himself, harshly pushing the drug into himself.

He leaned his head back in ecstacy.

"Ahh, yeah..." he said in a breathy tone.

He could hardly feel his legs. It was almost as if they weren't even attached to his body.

He leaned back in the floor, but found himself leaning back into Mirage's lap.

"Feel good, baby?" he purred seductively at Prowl.

He nodded groggily and rested the rest of his weight upon him.

He felt other worldly.

He liked this.

He didn't have to think about all the pain, he couldn't feel hardly any of his body let alone think, or worry.

He began to feel his own body again, as he was aware of something touching him.

He looked to his right and found the white fingers of Mirage's hand slowly rubbing down his side.

"I can make it feel even better." Mirage breathed, and he leaned down to kiss Prowl.

They engulfed their mouthes in a kiss, as they flicked each other's glossa' together.

"Mmm," he moaned into the kiss. "I want to feel you." he stated in a seductive tone.

Not having a care in the world, Prowl nodded and sat himself up.

He had no idea what he was doing.

Prowl hated having any sort of connection - at all.

With anybody.

But the drugs made him feel good enough for something like this.

He crawled ontop of Mirage, and nestled his face into the side of his neck and began slowly nibbling and biting upon his cables. He earned a loud gasp from the other mech, and smirked in satisfaction at the sound.

Primus, he wanted this right now.

He felt Mirage's hands engulf upon his aft, and he reached his hand down to click open his shaft.

Out came his spike, large, hard and begging to enter inside of Prowl.

"Give it to me..." Mirage practically moaned.

Prowl leaned his aft down upon Mirage's spike, and felt the tip touch the base of his port.

He shuddered with delight, knowing what was about to happen.

He was ready.

Mirage wiggled his hips, and pushed up into Prowl's port.

He could feel the tip slowly entering into him, and he pressed down even harder, dying to feel him inside of him.

He gasped loudly as he felt Mirage's large spike quickly thump into him, and then began thrusting in and out rythmatically.

"Ohhh, frag." Prowl practically screamed.

It felt so good, especially right now.

"Take it, Prowl... Mmm." Mirage thrusted even faster into Prowl, feeling his port squeeze tighter with each moan that escaped his lips.

Bouncing up and down, Prowl fell into absolute ectasy, putting all of his strength into his hips to give Mirage as much pleasure as he possibly could.

Bucking in up in down motions, then in circles, then back and forth and he repeated this.

"Ohh, I'm gonna overload." Mirage moaned loudly.

Prowl felt Mirage's hands roughly grab his hips, and allowed him to push him faster down onto his spike.

He began to scream in pleasure, and then, they both overloaded.

Prowl collapsed upon Mirage, and they both slowly drifted into recharge.

-POV-

It had been a long day, and Jazz was ready to go to the lunchroom.

"Ugh, fianlly I got a fraggin' break!" he muttered loudly to himself as he made his way down the corridor to the lunchroom.

Maybe he would see Prowl there, but probably not.

Even if he did, he knew he would probably just push him away and hardly even give a bit of a glance toward him.

Prowl didn't seem to care who was helping him. He certainly cared to get away from the person who was though, and that confused Jazz.

Why would someone turn down help?

He didn't know. He entered the room, and he took a seat by himself. He was approached by a red mech, with big blue optics.

It was Perceptor.

"Ello, Jazz." he greeted him with a warm smile.

"Aye, Percy. What's been up?" he replied.

"Oh, nothing." he looked down shyly. "I've just been here all day, serving people. Working the lunchroom is sort of irritating, because lots of people come in and they just make fun of me..." he frowned.

"Awe, they shouldn't do that to ya. Don't listen to em', Percy. You're a good mech, they're just jealous, trust me." He patted him upon the back, and earned a smile in return.

"Thank you, that makes me feel a bit better." he replied heartily. "So, what could I get you?"

Jazz thought a moment before replying, "Oh, just get me whatever. Surprise me, I'm indecisive today."

He was too absorbed in his thoughts of Prowl to even think of what kind of grade he wanted to sip on.

"You seem troubled, are you alright?" Perceptor asked him.

"Ahh, just thinking about a lot."

He thought a moment.

Maybe Perceptor could give him a little insight?

"Say, uh. Do you know much about Prowl?"

Perceptor just shrugged.

"He doesn't talk really much. I don't know much about him other than he never gives me a straight answer whenver I take his order and he glares at everything. He seems troubled."

He scratched his metal brow thoughtfully as he finished.

"Well, what about Mirage?" Jazz asked curiously.

"Yuck. Mirage is icky. He's a prostitute!" Perceptor stuck his tongue out and pointed at it. "Yucky! He used to be a great spy, but all that fragging messed his joints up, I guess!"

Jazz found himself snickering at the silly way Percy talked, and replied,

"Well, I was just wonderin' cause Prowl seems to get along with him, and I wanted to maybe start talking to him. Well, uh, not Mirage, but Prowl."

Perceptor seemed to have a confused look on his face as he looked straight at Jazz.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

Percy took a seat next to him, "What do you mean talk to him, exactly?"

He sat back, and thought a moment.

"Uhh, um. I think he's cute, and I want to get to know him... I want some suggestions."

Perceptor just stared at him.

"What? Stop starin' at me like that, man!" Jazz hid his face.

"You like Prowl?" Perceptor asked plainly.

"Uhh, yeah... I guess so?"

Perceptor shot up out of his seat.

"Awe, that's so cute! Jazz likes someone, oh my primus. Get him flowers or something, or just go to his quarters and try to talk to him! Awe, you guys are going to have so many sparklings! Can I be the uncle?"

Jazz looked up at him, flabbergasted.

"Uh, now wait... you're going a little too far, way too fast. I just want to like, figure out how to talk to him."

He sat back down quickly, and mulled over Jazz's words.

"If Mirage hangs around him, maybe you should start there so you know what to say. Have you ever even talked to Prowl?"

"Uh, no." He replied shyly.

"Well, start there!" Perceptor shouted, flapping his hands excitedly. "It can't possibly be that hard! I mean, I liked this one guy awhile back and -"

He just trailed off, and began staring behind Jazz.

"And?" Jazz pushed.

Then, realizing Percy was staring at something, he turned around and there he was.

Prowl.

"Oooh, he's right there. HE'S RIGHT FRAGGIN' there! Go talk to him! No, I'll do it for you!" he skipped off.

"No, Percy, d- don't! Oh, frag it. Frag, frag."

Jazz facepalmed as hard as he could.

He stared over at Perceptor and Prowl, and saw him begin talking.

Then behind Prowl came Mirage. Frag, they're both here.

He was beyond nervous. His spark skipped a pulse as he saw Prowl look at him.

He darted his head the other way and acted like he didn't see him.

"Oh slag, umm, I'll read the menu!"

He picked up the menu and pretended to read its contents.

Then, he felt a finger poke him.

He turned his head, and he was shocked.

"Hey."

It was Prowl.

"Umm, hey."

"Percy told me you wanted me to sit with you." he looked at him expectantly.

"Ummm, yeah, yeah. I do. Would you?"

"Sure, I'm bored anyways." Prowl sat himself in front of Jazz.

They sat in silence for awhile as Jazz just sort of stared at him in disbelief.

He took this chance to examine his features intently.

He was obviously a praxian, and a downright beautiful one, too.

His face looked so smooth, and his doorwings twitched every now and again, and Jazz thought it was completely adorable. He had a slender waist, and a noble chest where his headlights were, obviously stating he transformed into a car of some sort.

He had full lips.

Primus, they were beautiful too.

Everything about him was beautiful.

His thoughts were instantly cut off whenever he figured out he was staring at Prowl AND being stared at by Prowl as well.

"Do you want something?" Prowl asked plainly.

"Yes! Uh, um. I mean no... I was just looking at you." Jazz replied, trying to hide his shyness as he blushed and looked away.

Prowl shrugged and looked down, then looked back at him. "Why would you want to look at me?" He asked, becoming intrigued with the sby mech upon him.

"I wouldn't! I mean, 'cause uh... well, you're really slaggin'... um, you look nice."

Prowl found a bit of a smile crossing his lips, but quickly pushed it away. '

No.' he thought.

'I can't smile... I can't. Not in front of him, or anyone else. I don't care... I have to remember that, I don't care. I don't need anyone.'

"Oh, well... thank you."

His curiousity was at its peak.

"What's your name?"

"Jazz." he replied.

"I'm Prowl."

"Uhh, yes I know. You don't remember me from -" realizing what he was saying, he cut himself off.

What if he didn't want him to see him like that and would push him away if he knew he was the one that tried to help him that night?

"From what?" He asked suspiciously.

"Um, nothing. I got ya mixed up with someone else. So um, tell me a litle about yourself..."

"There's not much to tell." he stated simply.

"Ohh, well, I'd really like to know more about you. Maybe take you out sometime..." he said the last part as quiet as he could, but unfortunately, Prowl heard.

"Take me out? What do you mean?"

"Oh slag, uhm. Like, on a date."

"I'm sorry, I can't..." he replied plainly and turned his head away and looked down.

'Why would he want to take me out?'

"Why wuuld you even want to take me out?"

Jazz just blinked and stared at the marvelous mech in front of him.

"I just - you seem sad a lot. And I - I think it would make you happy to, um, you know. Just go out and have a little bit of fun, maybe go eat and then go visit the lake? I don't know, nevermind, it's stupid."

For the first time in a long time,

Prowl felt a ping of emotion.

Maybe it couldn't be too bad going on just one date.

He'd just tell him he wasn't interested in him afterward.

Yeah, that's what he'd do.

"You know... I- I can. A date wouldn't be too bad. It's been a long time since I've been out with anyone but Mirage."

"Really?" He felt his spark skip a few pulses, and excitement rushed to his head and cheeks, showing his happiness and he began to blush. "Tonight? At 8?"

"Sure." he said as plainly as he could. "I should go now, I have some things I need to do before then."

"Oh, alright! Um, I'll come to your quarters?" He asked eagerly.

"Yeah."

"Okay, awesome! See you then."

Jazz was so excited.

He watched every single step Prowl made as he left the lunchroom.

It was almost as if he was in slow motion.

With every step he took, Jazz felt his chestplate get warm, and felt his spark pulse even harder.

'He's so breath taking...' he thought.


	3. Never

"Cut yourself in conversation,

Cut the line to make me feel alive.

'Cause you know I'm not alive.

And leave me with your complications,

Take your life,

You feel like taking mine."

-beginning-

Jazz nervously prepared himself to meet Prowl.

It was a megacycle until 8, and 50 cycles until he would go to his quarters.

'Do I smell okay? I hope he likes me. Oh, my primus!'

His mind was rushing with thoughts.

He was so excited, yet so nervous. Maybe he should go see him early?

No, what if he gets mad?

Frag it, he wanted to go see him NOW!

Jazz excitedly overlooked himself in his mirror.

"Yes, YOU are handsome!" he said to himself in the mirror.

He made gestures, kissy faces, and many other silly things at himself in the mirror, perfecting his attitude for the night.

Would they kiss? Hug? Hold hands?

He didn't care, he just wanted to see him, but any of that would be fantastic!

He fixed the bow upon his neck, and began to leave his quarters to go see Prowl. He hoped everything would go well.

Jazz began his 'journey' down to Prowl's quarters, as he walked, he checked the time upon his watch.

7:15pm.

He rushed faster, eager and honored to have this chance.

He reached his quarters, and suddenly became breathless.

He stood firm as he poked the buzzer to open the door... nothing.

He buzzed again... still nothing.

Maybe he was working?

No, that couldn't be it.

Prowl KNEW he was going to be here soon.

If anything, he was probably getting ready.

Then he noticed his quarters door was unlocked... he pressed the open button, and open they did.

He dropped the flowers he took with him at the sight before him.

"Prowl!" He shouted in fear, as he ran to the body splayed out upon the floor infront of him. "What happened?! Are you okay?" he shouted desperately.

Prowl slightly opened his optics,

"Who... who is it... what are you... I see... Don't hurt me anymore..." he pushed Jazz away.

"Prowl... wh-what's wrong?" surprised by the push.

Prowl burst into uncontrollable sobs. "J-Jazz?"

"Yes, it's me, Jazz. What's wrong with you!?

"G- Get away from me!" Prowl screamed, and he threw his lamp at Jazz, hitting him straight in the head.

"Frag, what the slag, Prowl? It's just me, what's wrong? I-I can help you!"

"No one can help me. I'm a nothing! Don't look at me... d-don't look at me... I.. I'm hideous. GET AWAY FROM ME!" he screamed once more.

Jazz stared in disbelief at the broken, sad mech upon him... Perceptor was right, but here's where it would change.

"N-No... I'm not going to leave. I want to help you, just let me help you. Being alone all the time gets you nowhere, Prowler... Just calm down."

He fell to the floor, in a bundle of sobs.

"Please! Just get away from me! Don't look at me..."

Jazz hesitantly walked toward him, and wrapped his arms around him. "Baby boy, it's okay... I want to look at you..."

He turned his head, optics burning with tears, "Why? Why? I'm- I'm disgusting..." He began shaking his head violently with his hands pressed to his face. "PLEASE GO AWAY!" he pushed him off with one hand.

"What's going on?" they both heard a voice call to them.

Jazz darted his head up. "Skyfire! What are you doing here?"

"Is he okay?" He asked in concern.

"I-I don't know... I was supposed to meet him, and when I got here he started screaming at me!" replied Jazz, still trying to clutch Prowl's flailing body against him while he continued to scream incohereant words.

Skyfire made his way toward them both. "Allow me..." he looked up at Jazz with assuring eyes.

He nodded, and backed away from Prowl.

Skyfire was a conselor and a doctor. Jazz knew he would know what to do.

"His spark is pulsing rapidly... and look at his wrists."

Jazz glanced down at the mech's wrist and was struck with sadness.

Ironhide had been right.

The many holes within his wires made his spark drop to his knees.

Why would someone do this to themselves?

How could someone make themselves feel so insecure consciously?

Primus, no.

He continued to stare in disbelief, as his hopes fell crashing to the ground.

"Help me get him to the repair chamber. Ratchet will know what to do... I don't know how much he injected, I don't have hardly any equipment with me. We have to hurry." He rushed Jazz, as he started to pick up Prowl.

"This way." he leaded.

He hurried behind the large mech, worried.

-POV-...

Prowl awoke in a medical berth.

He struggled to see as he opened his weary optics.

His wrists were numb, and he was in so much pain. The slightest movement made him wail in agony.

He blinked repeatedly, not even knowing if he was alive.

'This is how it's supposed to be...' he thought.

'Just me... myself, and no one else.'

Nobody knew the cold exterior he put up was just to protect himself.

He didn't want to feel anymore, and the synthetic energon helped establish that.

All he could do was lay there, not think and just feel wonderful.

But in a way, it didn't last long enough.

In that moment, Prowl realized he would be alone forever.

'No one loves me. No one ever loved me... Nothing is real but pain... and I'm fine with that.'

He didn't know why he thought this way.

He was so scared of any commitment - of everything.

Someone looking at him makes him cringe...

Why does he have to feel this way? All he wanted was to be happy.

'No, I'm not supposed to be happy...'

Suddenly, he heard a calming voice reach him.

"Are you alright?"

He looked to his side to find Ratchet standing next to him, and in the back sat Jazz and Skyfire, waiting patiently to see if he was okay.

"Is he awake?" asked Jazz.

"Yeah, he's awake, and he's fine it seems. I stabilized his spark rate, and I have some pain stabalizers pumping through his wires so he doesn't hurt as much. He's pretty banged up though... Jazz, Skyfire, come out with me right quick. Prowl, I'll be right back, alright?"

"Okay..." he whispered.

Jazz and Skyfire both began walking outside of the repair chamber, and as Jazz was walking away, he looked back at the mech and he felt a horrible pain go throughout his spark.

He wanted so badly for what he saw to not be true... but deep down he knew it was.

He didn't want to believe it.

"Alright, ya'll listen." Ratchet said in an orderly tone. "I'm going to give you guys a bit of history here, because whether Prowl wants me to tell ya'll or not, I'm gonna tell ya. I knew his father Praxus, and I know that he wouldn't want his son going through so much pain. So I'm gonna make a solution, starting with you two. Got it?"

Both of them nodded, waiting for what was to come.

"Prowl is 23 stellarcycles old. He's very young still, and he shouldn't have to go through so much suffering. He needs counseling, Skyfire. I want you to try talking to him as much as you can on a daily basis. I baby sat that kid and I never pictured him turning out this way, but with how he lived I can understand why. He was abused in every way you can think of. Sexually, phusically, verbally, and whatever else he may have done to him. When I say him, I mean his other father Mill. Now, I'm not going to go to deep into that, but his other father Praxus was a heavy drug addict because all Mill did was beat em' both. With that said, he has depression. He really needs someone to be around other than that piece of slag Mirage..." he trailed off.

"Do you guys get the gist of what I am trying to say?"

Skyfire walked closer to Ratchet and rested his hand upon his shoulder. "I've known Prowl a long time, you know that. I'll make sure he's safe."

Jazz just stood there and he nodded, looking down at his feet.

What was Skyfire to Prowl?

He felt a ping of jealousy within him.

No, that's not right... he's not even with Prowl. He has absolutely no right.

Then, remembering Prowl was in the room just behind him, he left the presence of Skyfire and Ratchet, more concerned for Prowl than anything.

He turned and walked into there, quickly being stopped by Ratchet.

"Hey, do ya need a minute? He asked in earnest.

"If you don't mind." he replied quietly.

Ratchet nodded, and closed the chamber door behind him.

Jazz cautiously approached the berth in which Prowl lay to make sure he was alright. "Aye, you okay...?" he asked with sadness lining each word.

Prowl turned his head and stared, obviously surprised he was here. "W-Why are you here?"

"Do you not remember?"

"No..."

Jazz sighed sadly.

"We were gonna go on that date at eight, and I wanted to... I wanted to come see you early so we could spend more time together and I found you laying in the floor in your room, barely even able to move. I started calling your name and you threw a lamp at me, and started screaming at me, telling me to get away from you, and sayin' you were disgusting... a- and hideous."

Prowl's optics widened, and he turned his head away.

"I-I'm sorry..." he tried to say it as coldly as he oould.

He couldn't care.

"No, no, no. Don't be sorry, you were upset. There's no reason to be sorry... b-but can I ask you something?"

"What?" he replied slowly.

Jazz glanced at his wrists and pointed briefly. "Why?"

Prowl felt tears starting to well up in his eyes.

"I... It's nothing. Don't worry about me."

He felt anger strike him at the response.

"No, I am gonna worry! You could hardly move, Prowl! Don't be such an aft! I wanna help you, why can't you just accept that?"

Prowl attempted to sit up, but couldn't... he turned his head, and looked Jazz directly into the optics, and he said,

"Because I don't want help. I don't need help. I want to- to be alone. I don't need anyone to care about me, and I don't want anyone to care about me. I'm just fine with being myself, and besides, it's better that way..."

"Don't you fraggin' lie to me... Please, Prowl. I'm here for you."

"Forget about me." he said plainly, and sharply, as if he hadn't said something so serious. "Don't even think about me. We never met. I'm nothing to you, and you're nothing to me. We're not meant to talk... ever again..."

The words struck Jazz's spark home, and he felt like he was about to fall to the floor in a bundle of tears.

"You don't mean that. Pushing people away doesn't do anything but make you hurt more, Prowl! Why can't you get that? I don't want to forget you, I think you're so -"

"Forget about me!" he repeated. "We never met!"

Staring at him, Jazz started shaking his head.

He looked down, trying to fight back the sadness trying to leak out in his optics, and clenched his fists.

He turned around, trying to keep hmself composed and made his way outside of the medical room. Whenever he left, he was greeted by Skyfire and Ratchet once again.

Skyfire looked at him with a concerned look upon his faceplates. "What's wrong? You look like you're about to cry... Did something happened?"

"It's nothin'." he replied solemnly, as he pushed his way past them.

"Forget about it..." he said with a twist of hatred to the first couple of words.

He didn't understand... he didn't understand it at all.

He didn't understand why Prowl was so intent on wanting to hurt.

How does someone so perfect feel so insecure?

Does he actually WANT to hurt and be alone?

People beg to be saved, not to be hurt... but why was it different with him?

Was he really that afraid?

He recalled being told he'd been beat... but was that why?

He'd never seemed to be loved...

He wanted so much to be the one to do that for him. Maybe he should just give up... maybe it is better this way.

'Forget about me.'

The words echoed throughout his mind.

He didn't want to forget about him. Frag it all, why?

What he truly couldn't understand he how he could already care so much.

His loving spark told him not to leave, but his mind said to leave it alone.

Being a lover, he decided then and there. He would do his best to prtoect and help Prowl. He would fight for Prowl. It was decided.

-POV-

Prowl heard Ratchet approaching the berth and he did his best not to meet his eyes.

"Don't look away from me, what did ya say to that kid?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Ahh, slag it, Prowl. Don't you fraggin' lie to me. I've known you since ya were a sparkling, and I know how you act whenever you lie. Don't try to lie, 'cause it ain't gon' getcha' nowhere at all, kiddo. Just talk to me, I'm basically your uncle!"

Prowl frowned strongly. "I told him to forget about me." he said emotionlessly.

"Seriously?"

"Yes. I told him to forget about me." he replied, trying to sound as if he didn't care.

"Now ya know that kid likes ya, Prowl. Don't be that way. What happened to that jolly lil' kid I've knew, eh?"

Prowl turned his head twoard him, and looked him dead in the optics. "He died a long time ago, Ratchet."

Not knowing what to say, Ratchet just stared blankly back at him.

"Now do ya know how crazy that sounds? You need to get ya head out your aft and stop being so daggum upset all the time! Come on, now. You can fix the problem, you just don't want to!" He pointed at the IV's pumping into him. "You are better than that! I never pictured you becoming a drug addict, Prowl. You were a good kid. Yeah, I know you had a bad life, but you should be trying to live what life ya got left better. You're gonna realize how stupid this is, and when ya do, you're already going to be so consumed by that synthetic slag that it will be too late!"

"Just leave me alone!" he shouted at the medic.

Infuriated, Ratchet slapped Prowl across the face.

Stunned, Prowl just stared at him.

"Talk to me when you get your senses back. You're free to go."

He unhooked the IV's, turned off the machine.

"I swear, you're just like I was when I was your age... and that's not a good thing." he muttered as he turned off the lights and left Prowl alone in the medical chamber.

For the first time, Prowl felt himself feeling even more alone that he had ever felt before.

He laid back, closing his eyes and clenched his fists in anger.

'You're just like me.'

Psh, he didn't know half of what he felt.

Ratchet had no idea.

Suddenly, he had another flashback...

-flashback-

"Prowl, where are you?! Prowl!" called Praxus. "Daddy can't find you, come here! Where are you? The house is on fire, lovely, we have to get out!" he screamed frantically for his son.

"Daddy!" called Prowl. "H-help me!"

"You ain't gonna get away from me now, you little brat. You don't know what I've done for you!" He punched his child in the face.

Prowl fell backward into a burning table, and screamed at the pain from the embers that got onto his doorwings, trying to crawl away, ignoring the pain.

"You don't know what I've been through!" shrieked his father.

Prowl curled himself into a ball, full of no more fight. He knew it was the end...

"Mill, get away from him!" called Praxus with fury. "He's done nothing to you! Leave our child alone."

"He ain't no kid of mine. Look at em, curled up like a sparkling. Pathetic!" he yelled as he kicked Prowl, earning another scream from the youngling.

Praxus lodged a punch into Mills face, knocking him into the ground as the house burned around them.

"You bitch!" he screamed. He locked both hands around Praxus' throat, screaming and babbling slurred, drunken words at his partner. "I'll kill you!"

Praxus turned his head as much as he could toward his child, and mouthed the words 'Run.'

Prowl immediately got up, and moved as fast as his aching body could move.

He made his way through the dining quarters, and went out the front door from there, and hid himself outside, cradling himself infront of the burning house, trying not to lose himself. All he could hear was the burning of his home and the screaming of his birth parents.

"Get off of me!" demanded Praxus.

Mill grinned malevalently. "You love him more than me, so I'll make it to where we can be together... forever. Like we wanted, right?"

"Mill, no... Don't you do it!"

Mill reached into his subspace, and pulled out a gun. "Die, you slaggin' bitch!"

Prowl heard a loud gunshot, and darted his head to look at the burning house, knowing what just happened.

He broke into even more uncontrollable sobs as the house finally fell from the roof down, crushing his parents inside.

"Daddy!" he called out. "No!"

-end of flashback-

... Prowl clenched his fists and punched the berth beneath him.

'I can't escape these thoughts... I- I can't.'

He pushed himself up from the berth with all his might, and left the medical room in a haze of hatred.


End file.
